As a Mikvah attendant, I have witnessed many moments of deep emotion and transformation. But one evening stands out with particular tenderness — when I had the honor of guiding a woman, a friend, through her Mikvah immersion following a hysterectomy due to breast cancer.

For many years, one of my most personal companions was the mikvah. It arrived in my life when I was young and newly married — a little nervous, a little unsure, clutching a towel and a sense that I was stepping into something ancient and intimate.

What a blessed, joyous first experience for my daughter, embracing her into the mitzvah of mikveh immersion in a manner that will hopefully connect her to Hashem - and her beloved – with warm, wonderous ties of happiness and holiness, for blessed decades of fertility to come. It was this very positive experience of hers – and of mine alongside her – that struck me painfully as so very much in contrast to my own tevilla experiences.

For many women, immersing in the mikveh is one of the most private and spiritual moments of the month, a time for reflection, renewal, and connection. Yet, even in such a sacred space, it’s not only allowed but essential to advocate for your comfort and sense of dignity.

I knew more than ever that I wanted to be a balanit. To create the space for them to get what they needed.

Each mikvah team should think about appropriate ways to make the mikvah experience more accessible for everybody.